


Painting 101

by shir_oh_no



Series: Shance Art AU [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12047103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shir_oh_no/pseuds/shir_oh_no
Summary: Lance is not having fun in his painting class. Luckily Shiro doesn't mind listening to his boyfriend rant





	Painting 101

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% me venting about my painting class and I don't care. I'm using this as an excuse to update my art au

“I hate this I hate this I hate this _I hate this_ ,” Lance chanted, storming into Shiro’s apartment.

Shiro looked up from his textbook to see Lance shrug off his backpack and drop two canvas boards and a palate on the floor by the door. Shiro moved his book to the far side of the couch, flipping it onto the correct pages so he wouldn’t lose them, then opened his arms wide for Lance to crawl into.

Lance ignored his open-armed invitation in favor of flopping face-first onto Shiro’s lap, letting out a groan of frustration. His feet kicked up behind him, legs laying straight out behind him. Shiro smiled softly, dropping his prosthetic to his side and reaching down to run his fingers through Lance’s hair.

“Bad day?” he asked.

Lance let out another miserable groan, flinging one hand out to gesture at his belongings piled onto the floor.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?”

Lance pushed himself up far enough that he could be heard. “Painting is absolute bullshit.” He flopped back down, nuzzling his nose into Shiro’s thigh. Shiro chuckled quietly, his laughter sending shakes through his body.

Lance shot up, his arms outstretched underneath him, holding him up to Shiro’s eye level. Lance’s eyes were wide with panic, but the terrified look on his face ebbed the longer he saw the smile on Shiro’s face.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean,” Lance stammered. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Okay, look, painting is horrible. Not like, your painting, because you paint amazing, but like, my painting is terrible and the class I’m taking is horrible and I hate everything,” he rushed out. Lance readjusted his position so he was sitting cross-legged next to Shiro on the couch.

Shiro turned his body, leaning his arm against the back of the couch so he could comfortably see his boyfriend. “Want to give me some context here?” he prodded.

Lance closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “I just. I’m tired. Of art,” he began. “So I’m taking painting this semester, right? And I need it for my degree, supposedly. But, I’m the worst in the class, and I don’t care, and painting is difficult, and the professor is kind of a huge bitch. And I know I shouldn’t say that, but it’s how I feel, and I’m just really tired.” He rubbed a hand over his face and opened his eyes, blinking tiredly at Shiro.

Shiro saw the reddish tint to his eyes and sighed, knowing his boyfriend was really upset over the class. “Have you tried talking to the professor?” he suggested.

Lance smiled sadly and shook his head, “No, but in class I explained to her that I was an art history student and have never worked with acrylic paint before, but she just brushed me off and told me that I didn’t get the angle of one of the pieces of our in-class still life right.”

“It’s only two weeks into class. She can’t be expecting so much from you.”

“Yeah, except we had our first assignment due today, and we had a critique where we went around the room and talked about everyone’s piece individually, and when we got to mine, instead of letting anyone else talk, she just told me everything wrong with my piece and told me it’d need at least five more hours of work, and Shiro, you know I don’t have the attention span or care level to do that kind of work. I’m not you. I don’t like painting, I like learning about who painted something, or why something was painted. The actual mechanics don’t interest me at all,” Lance ranted.

Shiro felt his heart break at his boyfriend’s words. He had helped Lance buy all the materials he needed for his first week of class, and had seen the excitement Lance had had at the idea of learning more about what Shiro did. He had walked past the beginner’s painting room at one point to see Lance, his tongue stuck out in concentration with a light gray swatch on his cheek. Lance now was on the verge of tears, obviously upset that he wasn’t able to meet the standards set.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he reached out and cupped Lance’s cheek, his thumb swiping under his eye to wipe away at any potential tears that may have already fallen.

“And the worst thing it, I don’t even think I need this class to graduate. Like I have nine credits worth of art classes and only six are needed, but for some reason, only three count! So I have a meeting scheduled with my advisor for Monday before class to see if I can get out of it, and I really hope I can so I can get back to having free time to spend with you.”

Shiro shook his head, “You shouldn’t drop the class just so you have time to spend with me. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just move into the beginner’s painting studio with you and work on my stuff there. We can have dates in the studio. We’ll survive.”

“I know,” Lance sighed, “I just don’t want to be in that class anymore. It’s expensive and makes me feel stupid.”

“You know you are more than welcome to take my painting supplies with you to class,” Shiro offered.

Lance shook his head, “I couldn’t do that to you! That’s your stuff, and I can survive without it.”

Shiro smiled, prodding Lance to return it, albeit it was a watery smile.

“Hey, in the meantime, would you mind helping me some of this art history stuff in line?” Shiro changed the subject to something he knew would bring back a spark in Lance’s eye. “We’re only two weeks into the class, but I swear Professor Slav is incapable of teaching linearly.”

Lance let out a laugh and brushed at his eyes with his hand, “Yeah, he does that a lot. He’s a good professor, but you really need to pay attention to all dates mentioned, and write down whatever he says when he’s going off on a tangent, especially if he’s talking about historical context bringing a theme forward. It makes it easier to prepare for his essays. Which class is he teaching this semester?”

“Art of the Twentieth Century,” Shiro said.

“Oh, nice,” Lance nodded, “Okay, so pay attention to what happens to art before, during, and after World Wars One and Two, and for your end of semester essay, I would look at Claude Monet and his water lily paintings. I know you prefer painting flowers more than any other theme, and there’s lots of material about Impressionism out there. Oh, and if you need it, you can borrow my notebook from his class last year. The notes should match what he’s teaching.”

Shiro leaned forward and pecked Lance on the cheek, “Thank you, Lance.”

Lance brought his hand up to touch his cheek where Shiro’s lips had been and beamed, “No problem, babe! Hey, want to take a break from studying? We could order a pizza, put a documentary about Leonardo da Vinci on, and make out?”

“I have doubts you’d be able to ignore a documentary about da Vinci long enough to make out with me. I know you love me, but I also know you love Renaissance artists more than that. How about a documentary about ghosts or something instead?”

“It’s a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at [shir-oh-no](https://shir-oh-no.tumblr.com/)


End file.
